A Different Kind of Monster
by Mel1592
Summary: Giles finds himself battling a different kind of monster. Note: I am going to have to find a way to edit the formatting here, it somehow got screwed up going from Yahoo to Wordpad to here.
1. A Different Kind of Monster

Title: A Different Kind of Monster

Author: Mel

Rating: FRC-ish

Teaser: Giles encounters a different sort of enemy

Notes: I will admit to being inspired by a drabble written by Rayne, but I promise that no stealing of ideas was done or should be inferred. This is the first of four, perhaps one or two more, short fics in the storyline. They're unbeta'd, so critque or comments on improvement are welcome.

Feedback:

Archive: Yes if permission is asked.

Disclaimer: Giles and the rest belongs to Joss. I only borrowed them

and will return them unharmed when I'm done.

Monsters were a part of almost every aspect of Rupert Giles' life. As a child, he had trained and studied and learned what it was felt he needed to know about them in order to prepare him for what he was told was his destiny. As a man, he spent much of his time fighting them side by side with his slayer and the rest of his friends. The battles had nearly cost him his life several times, but always he'd somehow managed to survive. Some battles had been won only by teamwork, others by his own will and determination alone.

But the blurred gray spot on the X-ray and the biopsy results showing what was inside his lung was a different type of monster altogether. It was an unseen microscopic killer that destroyed and ravaged and killed from the inside, would waste his body to nothing and leave it devastated, would eventually kill him. It couldn't be killed with a sword or banished with a spell. No slayer or team of demon hunters could destroy this enemy. Surgery was not an option, the disease was too advanced. Chemotherapy and radiation might work, though he knew what the side effects would be. The very thing that might cure him would very likely bring him near death itself before it helped.

Of course there were magicks; he could talk to Willow. But in his mind, he did not think that even she could stop it. Willow had said time and again that it could not mess with the natural flow of life, despite Buffy being brought back the way she was. Giles didn't think that he would want to go through that,as much as he feared death. Spells could slow it down, perhaps, maybe prolong his life. But magick wasn't a cure-all. It didn't mix well with medicine and he knew that he could never live with a body or worse, a mind, inadvertently damaged by a spell gone wrong. He would consider the chemical treatment, and knew that those who cared for him would be there to offer what emotional support. But at its essence, this battle was one that he faced alone in one way, his survival dependent on how strong he was, how well he could fight it off. He knew that in reality, he *wasn't* alone, not by any means. Not as long as he had Buffy there, and the others he'd grown so close to: Dawn,Willow and Xander. But it was only his own body, his own stregnth and determination, could win this battle.

With a steeled determination and a strong will to live, accompanied by a great deal of trepidation, Giles mentally made a vow to fight this monster as long as he still had the strength. If it ultimately claimed him, than so be it, but he would battle as long as he could.


	2. And Never Give Up

Title: And Never Give Up

Author: Mel

Rating: FRC-ish

Summary: Giles continues to battle his illness

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money being made.

It was heart-wrenching to see someone undergo the changes the disease had wrought in Giles in just a few months time. Buffy had seen him in the beginning; he had asked her to come to him so that he could talk with her in person about what was wrong. And now, despite his protests that he could manage on his own, she was staying with him for a while, helping out as best she could while still doing her job with the slayers. He had very much resisted her desire to help for some time, which really wasn't surprising. He had always been fiercely independent and accepting help, even from her, was a difficult thing for him. But once or twice he had confided that, deep inside, he appreciated the help very much.

He barely resembled anymore the watcher she'd known for so long. Part of this came from the ravages of the disease and more from the very drugs intended to fight the cancer. Because of the stage the disease had advanced to, there was nothing that could be done surgically, but there was still a chance the chemotherapy could do the trick. Giles had known of the risks and inevitable consequences associated with it, and had balked, but eventually, with coaxing from Buffy, he had reluctantly agreed to receive the treatment.

He was gaunt and thin, his pale, bruise-dotted skin hanging from him like the fronds of a willow tree now that the constant nausea and exhaustion had robbed him of much of his appetite and he had lost so much weight. His face was swollen, due to the Prednisone he took. His eyes were sunken and dark and most of his hair had fallen out long ago, leaving him bald.. There was still a chance of his survival, but she found it hard to believe, seeing him grow weaker by the day.

He still retained, though, the fighting spirit Buffy knew so well. He had insisted on doing his job running the Council, even if it meant working from his bed via telephone and, much as he still disliked it, computer and taking on assistants. Sadly, it meant he was usually totally exhausted by the end of the day. Still, he was pleased with himself, and Buffy reasoned that it gave him something to fight for and to keep his beleaguered mind clear.

The slayer realized that even though his physical form was failing, his spirit was still strong and willing to keep fighting. And, every now and then, Buffy would catch a glimpse of the old spirit in his eyes, would see the determination and strength they still held despite their tiredness and fear, and would let herself hope for a moment that maybe, just maybe, he might somehow make it through.


	3. Prisoner of War

Title Prisoner of War, 3 of 4 of a series

Author: Mel

Rating: FRC-ish

Spoilers: none

Summary: The cancer deals Giles a secondary but just as harsh blow

Disclaimer: Not mine. No money being made.

Notes: If anyone is wondering about the double blow of cancer and stroke, lung cancer frequently first invades either the brain and/or the liver before moving on, so there was a kind of progression there. I appreciate the comments I've been receiving, hang in there, the next one won't be so angsty by the end.

Giles was a prisoner. He wasn't trapped in a cell of metal or stone though; but a prison of flesh, muscle and bone. A large part of his body was useless now, a result of another blow from the cancer. It had come suddenly one morning: the terror of finding himself unable to move or speak, followed by darkness overcoming him. When he regained consciousness in the hospital several days later, he was told he'd suffered a massive stroke. The cancer had invaded his brain in the form of a tumor that had squeezed blood vessels to the breaking point.

But, despite the seeming suddenness of it all, the symptoms had actually been there before it had happened. He got terrible headaches. He had sudden mood swings and personality changes, strange behavior that confused and concerned the slayer. He'd blacked out several times. Buffy had made him a doctor's appointment to check into it, despite his reluctance, and he'd finally surrendered to the knowledge that it needed to be dealt with. The stroke had come just before he was to go.

For a time, he'd been totally paralyzed, though over time he'd regained some use of his hands and arms. Below the chest, however, remained useless, and although he was able to spend some time in a wheelchair, he was forced to rely on other people for even basic needs. It frustrated, humiliated and depressed him that every day, someone else had to bathe him, shave him and dress him. He had learned how to feed himself but it was difficult and messy, and due to the effects of the cancer drugs, he wasn't able to keep much down anyway. Most of his nourishment was now coming from a nasogastric tube, a tube which delivered food to his stomach through his nose. He needed constant oxygen supplementation as well, due to the fluid and general strain of the masses in his lungs. He couldn't even sit up without being strapped into a wheelchair and even that was simply too much effort anymore. Worst of all, he was no longer even fully in control of his elimination functions and had to deal with the indignity of nappies and changes just like a baby.

The effects of the tumor in his brain continued also. At times, he didn't know who he was or what was happening and became frightened and confused. Other times, he became angry and belligerent, which, during his lucid periods, he knew had to hurt Buffy intensely as her mother had experienced the same thing. He still suffered the blackouts and headaches, and now, from time to time there were occasional seizures.

Naturally, his hardships had meant he'd finally had to surrender Council leadership to someone else, much as it pained him. The one thing that did enable him to rest a bit more comfortably was the fact that the Council was in much better hands now than when he was a young watcher. He trusted Xander completely, and he'd made several new hires that he had a lot more faith in than the men who'd been his peers and colleagues. The new crop of potentials would never have to face so many of the things that Buffy had had to deal with, and he was glad for that.

Perhaps his biggest problem was that between the fact that he was so weak from the stroke,and the painful realization that they simply weren't working anymore, the chemo treatments had to be stopped. There was no way he could receive the medication without the treatments killing him long before the cancer ever would. Spreading unchecked, the cancer would claim him in a few months time, the doctor had said, and yet, in a sense, that was now the better of the two options he had. He hated the thought of lingering this way, bedridden, hooked up to machines and for the most part, helpless. It was only the care and support of Buffy and his family and friends that willed him to keep up the fight and to not give up completely. Willow was a big help as well, providing him with remedies and spells that, although they could not alter the path he was on, could ease his pain and ensure that he was not suffering as much as he would without them.

It had been suggested by the doctor that he be placed in a nursing home but both he and Buffy had adamantly refused. He insisted that he was going to spend whatever time he had left in the company of the people who cared about him most, and Buffy had shared that sentiment. Things were discussed with his family, but what little he still had would not have been able to care for him properly. His father was dead, his mother getting up in years herself. He had a brother but all things considered, it was ultimately decided he should stay in his current situation, with his daily visiting nurses and help from Buffy and the others.

His family visited as often as possible, and Xander, Willow and Dawn made time in their busy lives to visit every time it looked as though the opportunity might present itself. He even had to admit, although he'd never say it to anyone else, that he enjoyed the occasional call or visit from Spike, annoying as the bleach blonde vamp still often was. Angel offered well wishes, but although Angel was now disconnected from Wolfram and Hart, and he had learned to tolerate Angel and work with him as an ally, he'd never had found it easy to be around the cursed vampire since what had happened to him and to Jenny.

As much as it hurt to think about it, Giles knew that his battle was nearing its end. He would keep up the battle but all too soon, he knew that his stregnth would dry up, and he would have nothing left to fight with. The time would come for the battered, battle-weary soldier to surrender to the thing that was holding him prisoner. He realized now, as bad as the thought was, that this was a battle he could not win, an undefeatable opponent that would continue to weaken him and one day claim his life as its final price.


	4. Going Home

There may be another part later on but this is all for

now.

Title: Going Home

Author: Mel

Rating: FRC-ish/PG-ish

Teaser: Giles' journey comes to its end. Part 4 of 4

Spoilers: none

Pairings: Giles/Jenny at the end

Disclaimer: Not mine, Joss owns them. I'll return them

unharmed when I'm done.

Note: I may yet do a follow up to this chapter, but I don't know yet. And the Ghost Roads concept was from one of the novels, but I don't recall which one. It wasn't used onscreen, but it worked here.

Giles knew that his battle was finally at its end. His body was shutting down, system by system succumbing to the disease that had been ravaging it. He was weak and tired, the strength with which he had fought so long now used up. Strangely, though, he felt only a small amount of fear about dying; most of him would welcome the relief leaving this physical shell would bring.

Besides the taxing effect the cancer was already having on his brain, other systems had begun to deteriorate. His liver began to fail not long after the stroke, as that organ is another place lung cancer frequently invades first as it begins to spread. This left his skin jaundiced and yellowed, as well as further aggravating the swelling his body already had from the prednisone. His heart and lungs labored desperately to supply him with blood and breath, their function impaired by the masses within them. This made his breathing raspy and labored and left him constantly exhausted. His digestive system no longer absorbed a good deal of what he ate through his feeding tube, and his body had begun to cannibalize itself in a desperate bid for survival, leaving him terribly thin and bony. And not long ago, his kidneys had shut down, leaving him dependant on dialysis. And though it was not mentioned by Buffy or any of the others, he could clearly smell the odor, the smell of rot and decay, the death-smell. That smell was the physical acknowledgement of the feeling he had, the knowledge that he was already dead inside.

But Giles knew it couldn't go on. He was weak and mostly paralyzed, fully dependent on machines and other people to care for his needs. It hurt knowing what he had to face each and every day, that even his most basic needs had to be done for him by someone else, and despite the will to live he'd shown in the beginning, there was simply no way he could fight when there wasn't anything left to fight with. He knew that he could not prolong his life just to go on existing in this condition, that it was not really living anymore. So,just a few days ago, he had asked that the life support measures be stopped. Buffy had taken it hard, but ultimately, she had understood his reasons and accepted his decision.

For most of the morning, he'd lay drifting between sleep and wakefulness, between periods of clarity and alertness and confused haze, just as he did every day now. When he was thinking clearly, he sometimes watched whoever was sitting with him at the time. Buffy was there of course, and Dawn, Willow and Xander had taken time from studies and work to come to him when Buffy told them what was happening. His own family-his mother and brother-had been called in, but no one knew if they would make it or not. At the moment, the slayer was there, one hand lightly clasping one of his, her eyes unable to hide the ache she felt watching him. He shifted his head slightly, a thin ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he focused on her.

"Buffy…"

"I'm here." She saw his eyes, knew without any words being spoken what was happening. "I know…it's time. And I want you to know that I'm not upset at you for it. I know you don't want to keep living like this and I don't want to see it either."

"I'm glad…you understand…And there…are some things…I want to say. Knowing you…working with…you…was the…greatest honor…I could have…received" he whispered in a soft, labored rasp. "I'm so…proud of…you."

"I'm honored to have had you as my watcher, and my friend. With all due respect to Merrick and Wes, I wouldn't have wanted to work with anyone else. And…Try not to worry about me too much. It'll be hard at first…I know it will, but I'll manage okay. I think. I'll miss you terribly, though."

"I know…you will. ….I'll be with you…even if you can't…see me…"

"I know" she said. "This world, who knows…Maybe I'll see you again sometime Maybe you'll come back like I did or something."

"Maybe. Hope I wouldn't…go through….this again."

"No, I hope not. And, much as we'd like to try it, I'll make sure there aren't any resurrection spells this time. I just…I know you wouldn't want it that way. And although I'm glad now to have come back,I wouldn't want anyone else going through what I did."

"Very true. Thank you."

He was silent for a long moment, was seized by a barrage of coughs, and then once he was finished, he spoke again. "Let me…see….the others…now."

"Let me get them."

She quickly made her way to the door and motioned her friends into the room, softly saying to them that his time was near and that he wanted to see them now. Once they had gathered around the bed, the old Watcher started to speak again, his tired, almost peaceful looking eyes shifting from one person to the next. A faint ghost of a smile flickered on his lips as he spoke.

"It's been…an honor…working with…all of you." He rasped. "I could not…have chosen…better people…to fight…by my side. " His gaze shifted between the members of the little group. "I thought…being a Watcher…meant not…having a family. But I do. " His eyes focused on them intently. "You are…my family. I'll…miss you…all…"

Tearfully, they took turns saying their individual goodbyes, holding his hand, giving hugs but gently so as not to hurt him or disturb the tubes and monitors he still had attached, replying that they would all miss him very much as well. Buffy hugged him last, and with a noticeable effort, he lifted his arms up and around her, holding her close for a few seconds.

"It's okay…" she whispered to him gently. "Don't be afraid to let go."

His eyes were weakening, the things around him blurring and beginning to fade, but then something bright, radiant began to coalesce and form a shape by the bedside. It was swirling light at first, and then it shifted and changed into a human form with a familiar, recognizable face. A broad smile crossed his face, a tear streaking his cheek.

"Jenny…" he whispered.

"Rupert…Come, it's time to go." She reached to him and he took her hand in his. He sat up, and then stood for the first time in months, surprised at how light and effortless the action was. He felt his strength and the life that had so slowly ebbed away return. Gazing down at himself, he saw his body once again young and healthy and he felt strong and free, no longer encumbered by the ravages of the disease or its side effects. Looking back at the bed, he realized that this was his spirit-form; his physical body still lay on the bed.

As his spirit-form had left it, his mortal form on the bed had convulsed and shuddered, then fell still and silent. Its chest continued to rise and fall in ever shallower waves for a short time, then there was a final, long, slow breath and the shell stilled completely, its gaze

fixed and lifeless. He wondered momentarily whether his young friends could see him, but

The two ghosts embraced, holding each other, and then Giles reached out, laying his now ghostly hand on his slayer's shoulder one last time. She reached up to touch it, though her hand went through onto her own shoulder. She smiled at him, her lips forming words as she spoke softly through her tears. "Good-bye. I love you."

"And I love you, Buffy." He replied. "Keep on fighting, don't give up. Stay the course."

"I will. I promise."

Both she and the others were still crying but now the tears of sadness were mixed with joy and gladness. The bright light swirled, coming together into a single whole and then fading as Jenny led Giles onto the Ghost Roads and he began his journey home. They would all miss their old friend terribly, but their grief was made just a little easier for them to bear knowing he was happy now and that his suffering had ended.


End file.
